


Adagio of the Ice

by livinglittlelie



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Story of an ice kitten, Why do people keep calling Viktor Victor?, Yuri Plisetsky is a treasure, Yuuri is a wonderful ice skating instructor, a curious russian, and Viktor doens't even know what's coming for him, and an absolutely done japanese, because we need more child!yuri aus, child!yuri, my Yurio is a smol tiger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-09-06 02:18:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8730949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livinglittlelie/pseuds/livinglittlelie
Summary: Destiny was a funny thing.It could come with the face of small and grumpy child, which would make you reconsider how your life had been until then. It could also come with the face of an ice skating instructor that would give you back the passion for the ice you thought was long lost.





	1. Gymnopédie no. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sensei, Onegai Shimasu](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8679892) by [TheSilentOtaku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSilentOtaku/pseuds/TheSilentOtaku). 



> So I don't know what the hell I am doing. One second I was gushing about child!Yuri and throwing headcanons, and then I blinked and I had 500 words written of a new fic. Then I asked a friend of mine who's skated competitively and taught children how to skate, and he made it worse.
> 
> So yeah. Here you are. I hope you like it.

“Viktor, I want to learn how to ice skate!”

Viktor raised his eyes from the newspaper, looking down to the little child wearing a white tiger onesie. He had his tiny arms crossed, and his foot was tapping the floor impatiently. The dark scowl on his face, something unusual on a 6-year-old, was something that matched the boy’s favourite animal perfectly.

Viktor deliberately folded the newspaper neatly and placed it on the table, taking his time to answer. The scowl on Yuri’s face deepened, and Viktor had to stifle a laugh. The boy was just so fun to tease.

The older man shook his head, a sweet smile on his lips. “How many times do I need to tell you, _kotyonok_? You should call me papa. Say it with me, paa-”

“I want to do ice skating!”

Viktor chuckled slightly at the boy antics. He was so stubborn.

He crossed his legs and rested his head on his hand, looking down at him curiously. “Why?”

Yuri’s eyes widened, and the softest of blushes coloured his pale cheeks. He looked down, hiding his face with his bangs.

“I-I just do. So sign me in already.”

“Hmm,” he pondered aloud, feigning ignorance, “could it be that a certain someone spent way too much time watching papa’s old videos of his competitions? Did that happen, my little Yura?”

The blush on his cheeks was all the answer he needed. Yuri’s eyes stayed casted down, and the boy worried his lower lip with his teeth.

“… N-no,” he muttered unconvincingly.

Viktor suddenly picked him up, ignoring the kicks coming his way – they weren’t _that_ strong, after all – and placed the child on his legs.

“What are you doing!? Get me down!”

“So, what did you enjoy the most about my skating? Any preferred performances?”

Yuri’s eyes brightened at that. “Oh, I liked a whole lot! There was one where you had longer hair where you look like you’re flying! And your costume looked like it had wings! How do you jump so high? How does it feel? Is it easy or hard? It looks so easy, but I tried jumping this morning like you did, and I fell to the floor!”

He smiled, the eagerness of the little boy contagious. “Ah, I think I know which one you mean. This one is one of your papa’s favourites too. And that jump is actually really difficult! It’s called a quadruple Salchow, and it took me years to learn how to do it properly.”

“Really?” He frowned.

He could see the boy deflating on his knees. Not liking to see him like this, he picked him up from his armpits, holding him in mid-air. He ignored his protests and turned him around so both were facing forward.

“Let’s see… we start with a three turn, then we swing our free foot forward and… HOP!” He flung Yuri spinning in the air, the sudden movement making the child squeal, then caught him again when he fell, holding him near his chest. “Huh, a double Salchow. That was pretty nice for being your first time. Now tell me, _kotyonok_ , how did it feel?”

Viktor had never seen Yuri’s eyes shine so bright in all the time he’d had him. A wide smile made way to his face, a rare gesture in the child, and he could feel him vibrating from where he was holding him. It was the happiest he’d seen the boy since he picked him up from the orphanage.

“It was amazing! I want to do it again!”

“How about you learn to do it on your own, then? You’ll have to learn to stand on ice skates first, though.”

“Yes!” he threw himself to the floor, landing softly on his paw-like slippers and ran to the door. Before leaving the room, though, he turned around and pointed at him, trying to seem impressive. With the tiger onesie, he just looked adorable. “You’ll see, Viktor, I’ll be the best ice skater in the world! I’ll even surpass you!”

The child left running to the TV room, Viktor was sure of it. Before he could ever reach the room, he called, “ah, but I thought we both agreed you would call me papa!”

The loud bang of the door closing was his only answer, and Viktor shook his head, chuckling. The kid had too much stamina for his age. He sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair.

“… I’ll guess I’ll better start looking, then.”

It had been five months since Yuri and him had moved from Russia to Japan. It had been a spur of the moment decision; a week after he’d gotten Yuri, he’d booked two plain tickets and packed two suitcases for them. He had never minded to be the press focus since he had started, but he was getting tired of journalists following them everywhere, trying to get a scoop of his sudden decision to adopt the child. It got to the point where people started following them everywhere, and taking a vacation sounded nice back then. Maybe he’d have some bonding time with his son in the meantime.

But then Japan captured his heart. There was something about that place… something that asked him to slow down and enjoy the ride while it lasted. He’d never seen such beautiful places, and he’d travelled an awful lot when he competed worldwide. In there, no one recognised him – at least, not immediately – and it was just so _refreshing_ , that one week turned into two, and when they knew it, Viktor was already buying a house for both of them in a little town at the south.

It was snowing when they first arrived at Hasetsu. It reminded him a lot of where he grew up, but at the same time, it felt completely different. It was a little town by the sea, and the sight of the soft snowflakes falling to the big waves crashing into the port caught his heart and never let go. 

Their house faced the sea. Viktor loved to see the waves dance with the wind and the sun, orchestrating choreographies just for him to see. It made him want to skate so badly, to put those moves into a song and let his body flow with it, but he had more important things to care about at the moment.

Yuri was surprisingly picking up English and Japanese fast. Viktor himself had a little bit of trouble understanding the official language at first, but he could defend himself pretty nicely. If they spoke slowly, that is. So, in definitive, both of them were getting used to living in Hasetsu quite fast.

Viktor scrolled down on his phone, trying to find an ice rink near them that taught children how to skate, and after struggling with three pages written in plain Japanese, he’d found it. Ice Castle Hatetsu was a local ice-skating rink, and surprisingly, one section of the webpage was written in perfect English. It was information about an initiation course, and it had the contact information of the instructor.

He read it two times, and browsed images of the rink. It looked pretty nice, considering it was just a town’s facility. It was well-equipped, from what he could see, and of the standard measures. He could picture himself skating in there, if he was being honest, and that seemed good enough for him.

He wrote down the address, and checked out the opening hours. In the webpage, it said lessons started at 5 pm… maybe they could check it out by themselves first? That way he’d be sure that Yuri truly wanted to be in there.

Making up his mind, he closed the tab and smiled to himself. He hoped his little _kotyonok_ would like ice skating as much as he did.

* * *

 

Ice Castle Hatetsu looked exactly like the pictures, and Viktor was a bit impressed by that. The path was clean of the fallen leaves, and the walls were clear grey and blue. He could read the name of the building written in Japanese at the frontage with big blue letters.

It was nice.

Yuri tugged at his hand impatiently, nudging at him to go on. They climbed up the stairs hand in hand, and stopped at the front door. It was a bit early, so he wasn’t sure if it was open, but when he pushed the door, it opened swiftly.

“Well, might as well go in.”

They stepped into the lounge. The air was chilly, just perfect for ice skating. There were several rows of benches, two doors leading to the bathroom, and three vending machines, but nobody was in there. How strange.

Viktor could hear faint music coming from the closed glass doors. Grinning teasingly at the boy, he placed a finger to his lips, asking him to be quiet and opened the door. The music got louder instantly, and the Russian man felt compelled to follow it.

When he neared the ice rink, he could hear the unmistakeable slashes of ice skates gliding on ice. The sound was clear-cut, precise and utterly beautiful, and he wondered who had such great skills to give birth to a sound like that. Opening the last doors between the pair of them and the ice rink, Viktor’s eyes immediately landed on the ice, or more specifically, the figure dancing on it.

In all the languages he knew, he didn’t know a world good enough to describe the skater on the rink.

Every swing of his arms, every movement of his legs screamed elegance to his face. His moves weren’t nor masculine nor feminine either, just the perfect amount of both to captivate men and women alike. Instead of him following the music, the soft melody of the violin seemed to flow with him, as if the only reason of that music existing was because he was dancing.

The skill that accompanied the step sequence was competition-worthy, but he couldn’t recall seeing his face before on the ice rink, or at all. He would have noticed otherwise.

Then his arms stopped flowing, adopting a posture he knew too well. Starting with a forward outside three turn, he stopped momentarily with his free foot extended behind, then swung it forward and around as he jumped.

His eyes widened at the beautiful Salchow being performed in front of him, his mind subconsciously counting the turns. When the ice skater landed backwards on the ice, his posture confident and flowing like his skates did in the ice, he released the air he didn’t know he’d been holding. Then, he felt a tugging on the sleeve of his tracksuit.

“Viktor…” Yuri said beside him, a bit breathless, “that was a quadruple Salchow, wasn’t it?”

He gulped and nodded, his eyes never leaving the ice rink. He could feel the music reaching to its end, and he didn’t want to skip any second of his performance. The man began twirling on his axis, starting with a camel spin, then kneeling to regain inertia and standing up again. He stopped at the same time the music did, one hand extended to the air and the other to the side. His eyes were closed.

The silence was deafening on the ice rink, the only sounds that could be heard were the soft pants of the skater in the middle of it. Viktor couldn’t move. Hundreds of emotions clashed inside him after that performance, his mind still trying to get around what he’d just seen. He had never felt like this after seeing someone skate, like the skater had grabbed him by his hand and invited him to skate along. The story he told with his body was emotional, intense, and it had left him breathless.

He slowly raised his hands and began clapping, drawing the man’s attention to him. When those dark orbs landed on him, he couldn’t supress the shiver that ran from head to toe.

His eyes widened, suddenly realising he’d had spectators. “Oh, crap, what time is it? Is it time for class already?”

Viktor shook his head. The man had spoken in a rushed Japanese, but he’d managed to understand what he’d said.

“Don’t worry,” he said in English, “we’ve just come early.”

“Oh.”

He glided closer to them, and reached for the towel hanging on the board, next to a light jacket. He dried the tiny pearls of sweat of his forehead, shooting them a tentative smile.

“It’s a bit embarrassing you saw that…” He rubbed his neck, clearly self-conscious. “I like to skate before the children come, I didn’t expect anyone coming here early.”

“Why would you be embarrassed? That performance was perfect. Competition worthy, I must say.”

He looked to the side, a soft blush tinting his cheeks. How cute. “Thank you, but I’m not that good.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow daringly, and looked down at the child who was still watching the skater with wonder and admiration.

“Yura, tell him.” He nudged him to answer, but the boy retreated to his grumpy face and shrugged, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t impressed at all.

“I-It was fine, I guess. You know more about than me, Viktor.”

He heard a soft gasp coming from the other man and he looked up curiously. He muttered his name, and quickly reached for his jacket. Taking out a pair of blue-rimmed glasses, he put them on, and his eyes widened even more in shock and recognition.

“Viktor Nikiforov… you’re Viktor Nikiforov… the five times winner of the Grand Prix Final…”

“That’s me.” He couldn’t resist to wink at him.

His cheeks turned as read as cherries before he turned around swiftly (which was impressive, considering he was still on his skates), and began blabbering in Japanese, fast enough so he didn’t understand it. He didn’t really mind, though; he’d been in similar situations multiple of times, but that was by far the most amusing one.

While he let the skater sort out his embarrassment, he took the chance to watch him closely. Under those baggy pants and shirt, he could see the outline of toned muscles, giving him an athletic appearance, but at the same time it was lithe like an artist.

The man smacked his cheeks twice – _was this a thing in Japan?_ – and turned around, wincing.

“Okay… you’re Viktor Nikiforov, and you’re here. What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he answered simply.

“In Hasetsu?”

“Mm-hmm.” He nodded

The man groaned. “God, this is mortifying. You’re here and you _saw me skate_. How embarrassing?”

“Why? I liked it.”

He perked up at that. “R-really?”

“ _Viktor,”_ Yuri half whined, half growled beside him, “stop chatting. I want to skate.”

“Oh!” The Japanese’s eyes widened. “You came to sign him up? Right. I’ll pick up my things and I’ll take care of it. Just…”

He waved before rushing to the side door. However, he didn’t expect the change between the slippery ice and the rubber and stumbled, nearly hitting the floor. He gripped the board with dear life, his knuckles getting white at the strength. Viktor stepped forward to help him, but he lifted his hand to stop him, not looking at him.

“I-I’m okay! It just surprised me.”

He managed to stand up fully without help, but he was still avoiding his gaze. Viktor couldn’t supress an amused smile. How cute.

He sat down on a bench and put on the protections for the blades. Then, after standing up, he nodded to the exit and they followed him to the lounge again. He headed directly to the front desk and picked up a pen and paper.

“Let’s see… what’s your name?”

“Yuri Plisetsky,” he answered dully, his eyes still trained on the glass doors. The dark-haired man looked up at them.

“Ah… Not Nikiforov?”

“Nope. My _kotyonok_ likes his surname better.” He pouted playfully. “He even refuses to call me papa.”

Said child growled, “stop teasing me. And I’m not a kitten, I’m a tiger!”

“A tiny tiger is still a kitten.”

“Um…” He called for their attention again. “Does he know how to skate or is he starting from scratch?”

“From scratch.”

He wrote that down. His kanji were beautiful, but he didn’t know a lot of it.

He tapped his lower lip with the pen absentmindedly. “Okay… there’s an offer for beginners here in the Ice Castle. They can start the first week for free, see if they really like it and want to continue or not. Then we can do the inscription. Does that sound good?” Viktor nodded. “Okay, I think that’s all.” He looked down at the child beside Viktor. “I will be your teacher today, Yuri, I hope you have a good time with us.”

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Okay! You can wait for a bit for the other students to come, or I could show you around in the meantime?”

“Perfect!” Viktor exclaimed, “But first, what’s your name, Mr teacher?”

Viktor had never seen someone who blushed so many times in so little time, and neither he’d bumped into someone who had the most adorable doe eyes. The glasses slipped a bit, and he readjusted them, then winced.

“Ahh… I didn’t introduce myself, did I?” He raised his hand for a handshake. “Katsuki Yuuri. I’m one of the ice skating instructors here.”

He accepted the handshake. Despite the chilly atmosphere, his hand was warm. “Nice to meet you, Yuuri. I’m Viktor Nikiforov.”

“I-I already knew that.” He grimaced

“Just making sure.” He winked at him again, because why not?

Beside him, Yuri stomped on the floor, already fed up with them. “Whatever. Can we go already? I wanna see the ice rink.”

Yuuri’s face softened at the child’s demand and dropped his hand. Picking up his jacket, he headed to the glass doors, asking them to follow. Yuri was immediately by his side, almost running to the ice once they got to the ice rink again. Yuuri chuckled and he kept on showing them around, telling short anecdotes here and there.

Katsuki Yuuri, Viktor decided, was a mystery. He was painfully shy on the ground, but in the ice, he was confident yet delicate, courageous yet fragile. He had an amazing skill, and he couldn’t get his head around why he hadn’t heard of him before. Surely he’d competed sometime in his life, hadn’t he? Then _why?_

Luckily for the both of them, Viktor had always loved a good mystery. He loved cracking them, and he wasn’t satisfied until he knew every tiny detail there was. Yes, Katsuki Yuuri was a mystery, and he was going to have fun.


	2. Arabesque No.1 E-major

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to have taken so long! Life’s been a betch, with their constant reminders that I’m actually in my last year of uni and that I should work more – as though I didn’t work myself like a slave earlier. I’ve been skipping posting days, and I’m trying to use my Christmas’ break to make it up for it.  
> (Totally ignoring that I have finals afterwards)
> 
> I thought posting when the last chapter of this marvellous anime is aired was appropriate. Do not doubt to shout and screech to me about it, becAUSE HOLY FUCK. MY EYES ARE STILL TEARY. THIS WAS ALL I WAS ASKING FOR AND MORE. 
> 
> Oh, shoutout to Leisey for being an amazing penpal and listening to my bullshit, and for our arguments on which one is the most blessed one. Go read her stories! And nag her about that YoI fic idea she had but still hasn’t written.

Katsuki Yuuri couldn’t believe his luck. He had yet to decide whether it was good or bad luck.

He wasn’t sure how his life came to the point where he was at that moment. Because, when he woke up this morning, he was still Katsuki Yuuri, the guy that botched up his opportunity to do figure skating competitively, the guy that had to give up on his dream of competing against his long-life idol in the ice.

But then, Viktor Nikiforov, the five times winner of the Grand Prix, who had been M.I.A. for six months, showed up in Ice Castle Hasetsu with a child attached to his jacket. He’d seen him skate, and he’d liked it. _He’d liked it_. He wasn’t sure if he needed to feel ecstatic or terribly embarrassed about it.

Viktor Nikiforov had been as charming, and friendly, and flirty as he’d imagined him to be, but at the same time, he was different. His celebrity persona was more subdued, maybe because it was only him, or maybe because he had Yuri with himself, but he found out he didn’t mind that change at all. It made him more human, more reachable.

Of course, that didn’t make his heart stop from pounding erratically.

While he waited as he talked to the small child, who was his _son_ , Yuuri was secretly trying to sort out his emotions and trying very hard not to combust spontaneously. He waved at them with child-like joy, matching his son’s age more than the child, and before he turned around and left, he threw a really not fair charming grin at them.

Yuuri shook his head, clearing it of lingering thoughts of a certain famous Russian skater and focused on the children that had begun to arrive. Minami was the first one to get in, already running towards the lockers where his skates were kept, Guang-Hong close behind – but much more calmed, of course. Then the triplets came in, all of them engrossed with whatever it was on their phones, while Yuuko tried unsuccessfully to take their phones away from them and their coats at the same time.

And in all this time, Yuri hadn’t moved from his side. He looked down at him, just to see his face making a perfect poker face, looking at the others with disinterest.

“Yuri, are you okay?” he asked, concerned. The child looked up at him, and he could see something glinting in those big green eyes of his. He nodded in answer.

“Yuuri!” He turned to face Yuuko, who had finally taken the triplet’s jackets – and their phones – away from them, and joined him. “I’m sorry I left you alone at the Ice Castle today. Takeshi couldn’t pick up the children today, so I had to go instead. I hope you didn’t have much trouble on your own.”

Yuuri waved his hands in reassurance, a soft smile on his face. “Don’t worry, Yuuko. Everything’s been pretty tame until now. I even had some time to skate.”

She smiled and clapped her hands, looking years younger. “I’m glad!”

Then, her eyes were drawn to the child standing beside him, who immediately scowled at her, but Yuuri could feel his tiny hands grabbing his trousers from behind. She ignored his clear signs of discomfort and crouched down, smiling at him. Yuri’s grip on his trousers tightened, and his scowl deepened.

“And who’s this? A new student?”

“Yeah. His name’s Yuri. He’s joined us today.”

He decided to keep the information of whose child it was to himself. Yuuko had been even more of a Viktor fangirl than him, and he feared for her reaction when she found out that their favourite figure skater was living in Hasetsu.

“Aw, he’s so cute! And he looks foreigner… do you know where he’s from? And did he pick his skates yet?”

“No, I was going to help him now. By the way,” he changed the subject, feeling Yuri’s discomfort, “Axel is daring Lutz to do those Kung foo moves again. And Loop is filming them.”

“Oh no!” She stood up swiftly, putting her arms ajar. “Axel, don’t you dare! And Loop, where on earth did you find that camera?”

Just as Yuuko left to run after her daughters, he felt Yuri’s grip on his trousers loosening. He looked clearly uncomfortable, and he was sure the child would snap at him if he pried, so he decided to let it go. Instead, he caught his attention, nodding at the lockers.

“Do you want to pick your skates, Yuri?”

His face brightened up considerably as he nodded, and grabbed his hand as Yuuri showed him the way. He sat down on a bench and the Japanese asked him for his foot size, bringing two pair of skates with him. Once Yuri chose his skates, Yuuri taught him how he needed to tie them.

The children began sitting around them and putting their skates on too. Minami was the first one who finished and walked towards them, slightly wobbly on his feet. How he hadn’t tripped by then, Yuuri didn’t know, but Minami was always the one to surprise.

“Is he new, Mr. Katsuki?” he asked excitedly, almost vibrating in his place.

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah, his name is Yuri. Be good to him, do you hear me?”

“Sure!” he then turned to the blond boy and threw him his 100-watt smile. “Hi, my name’s Kenjirou Minami, but you can call me Minami! Let’s be friends! Do you know how to skate?”

Yuri just looked at him in disinterest, then proceeded to clumsily tie his laces. Minami frowned, but Yuuri managed to stop him before he could snap at the other boy.

“Don’t mind him, he needs to warm to everyone first. Can you check that Guang-Hong is tying his laces correctly? He tripped with them last time.”

“Sure!”

Minami rushed to Guang-Hong’s side, wobbling wildly but managing not to fall, and Yuuri turned to face Yuri, a small frown in his face.

“That wasn’t very nice, Yuri.”

He just puffed in answer.

Yuuri checked that his skates were tied correctly and fixed the blades protectors, he grabbed his hand and helped him stand up, but Yuuri looked amazingly steady on the blades, for being his first time. He then turned to the others.

“Come on, boys, let’s go to the rink. And no running, Minami!”

Everyone ignored his warning as they rushed to the edge of the ice and- oh, Guang-Hong fell. Minami helped him up, and he looked like he wasn’t in any pain, that’s good. He followed them more calmly, Yuri following short – although he had the feeling he was dying to rush to the ice like the others.

“Okay, boys,” he said once he caught up with them. Six pairs of round eyes turned to him. “Now that we have a new friend with us, we’ll go back to the basics, alright? I know some of you still have problems with it, so it’ll help us all. Let’s see… who can tell me what the penguin was about?”

“Um, it was to walk like penguins on ice!” Guang-Hong exclaimed.

“Opening your feet like this and walk.” Loop said, rearranging her feet so her tiptoes were facing to the left and the right. She wobbled slightly, but Lutz steadied her.

“Right!” he then turned to Yuri. “Do you understand what you have to do or you want me to help you?”

“No.”

He kneeled down so he was at Yuri’s eye level. The child was frowning.

“No?”

“I don’t care about these children things! I want to know how to jump!”

Yuuri waved his hands from where he was kneeling in front of the child, trying to calm him down and trying to come up with something to stop him from actually running into the ice with zero experience, and injuring himself. Not only he wouldn’t want that for any of his pupils – they would fall on their own too many times as it was – but there was also the fact that that little bundle of anger and stubbornness was Viktor Nikiforov’s son. Who was living in Hasetsu.

God, he was still not over it.

Yuri was a pretty cute boy. He seemed hardworking, and his stubbornness would make it difficult for him to throw the towel. Moreover, he’d caught glimpses of that soft interior he tried so hard to hide with a scowl – he still remembered how he’d hold his trousers in reassurance with a fond smile, but his problem was that he tended to underestimate things, just like now.

Maybe that was exactly what he needed. Maybe, if Yuuri challenged him, he would take ice-skating seriously.

“Tell you what,” Yuuri began nonchalantly. Yuri’s eyes fixated on him. _Perfect._ “If you can stay all of today’s class without falling, I’ll teach you how to jump tomorrow, I promise. Deal?”

He could see the child vibrating where he was standing, a huge smile on his face. Yuuri patted himself on the back for having such a good idea.

“Deal! How hard can it be?”

He rushed to the gate at the barriers before Yuuri could utter another word. He raised his hand to stop him, but Yuri was quicker than him. He placed his two feet on the ice and-

He fell on his face.

At first, the silence was deafening. But then, Minami began chuckling at the background until it became loud laughter that echoed in the whole ice rink, tears pooling on his eyes. Yuri didn’t lift his head from the ice, his fists tightening in shame.

“Yuri!” Yuuri stood up and hurried to help him up. Once he had him standing, he checked for any injuries on his body. A pink nose aside, the child was fine, and Yuuri sighed in relief. He removed the wild blond strands that were stuck on his forehead, damp because of the ice. “Yuri, please, don’t be so reckless. You could’ve hurt yourself. Shush, Minami!”

Yuri kept his eyes casted stubbornly aside, doing his best not to look at him. He could see his eyes shining on his pink face, and his gut clenched when he saw those unshed tears on the corner of his eyes. Momentarily panicking, he thought of all the ways he knew to cheer children up, but most of them wouldn’t work with a child like Yuri.

“L-look Yuri, it’s okay. The offer still stands. If tomorrow you manage not to fall and learn all the things I teach you, I’ll show you how to jump the day after. Okay?”

His clean blue eyes returned to him, and Yuuri tried his best to be the image of calm and collectedness (although he was mentally screeching). The boy, after some seconds that had Yuuri fidgeting on where he was kneeling, nodded, and Yuuri exhaled in relief.

He stood up, making sure he didn’t make Yuri fall again because of him and looked at the other children. “Come on, guys. Let’s start!”

* * *

 When Yuuri announced the class was finished, he was met with multiple groans. Before they rushed to the exit, he stopped them, asking them to come doing the exercise instead. The six children proceeded to make their way slowly, just as he’d taught them.

They were adorable.

One by one, he helped them out of the ice, grabbing them before they fell because of the change between the smooth ice and the rubber of the floor, and the group made their way to the lockers, chatting animatedly. Yuuri took out the skates he’d put on to help them in the ice, and watched as his pupils did the same, exhaustion and joy evident in their faces.

Their parents began arriving then. Guang-Hong was the first one to leave, waving timidly at them. Then, Minami’s parents came, and they almost needed to drag the child out of the building, threatening him with no pudding at dinner if he didn’t come along. Nishigori was the last one to come, panting slightly. He would take the kids home while Yuuko took care of things in Ice Castle Hasetsu.

The only one left was Yuri. He didn’t look too bothered by it, either, he just seemed bored.

“Yuri,” Yuuri called his attention. The boy turned to face him. “Do you-”

A loud bark coming from the entrance interrupted him. Both turned to see a big poodle with curly brown hair sitting patiently in the way, but his quick whipping tail betrayed how hard he wanted to leap inside. Yuri’s face brightened up at the sight of the dog.

“Makkachin!”

The poodle barked in answer and ran into the little boy, almost throwing him to the floor with a tackle. Yuri just laughed and buried his head in his long fur.

“You hug Makkachin with that sweet smile of yours but you still refuse to call me papa? I’m hurt, Yurochka.”

Viktor was standing in the doorway, hands buried deep within his puffer coat, and there was a radiant smile in his face. Yuuri felt his heart skip a beat when his very blue eyes landed on him, but he tried to quell it down. It was _definitely not_ the time to be swooning like one of his multiple fangirls.

He could hear Yuuko’s breath hitching behind them, and he winced slightly. He really hoped she didn’t start screaming, or worse, rant about how both of them had been fans since their childhood.

In two long strides, Viktor was standing in front of him, and Yuuri found it harder to breathe. He really hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as he felt them.

“Hi, I’m sorry I’m late.” He then looked down at Yuri. “Did you have fun, Yura?”

He nodded, and Makkachin licked his cheek. He rubbed the dog spit from his face with a sleeve of his jacket, glaring at the dog.

“It was fun. I fell three times, but I wanna skate again. And Yuuri promised me to teach me to jump when I don’t fall.”

“Oh, did he?” he raised his eyes to Yuuri, and he could swear they were twinkling mischievously.

Yuuri rubbed his neck in embarrassment. “Well, he wanted to learn how to jump right away, so I challenged him not to fall in a whole lesson. It was the only way I could think of to make him learn the basics.”

“Good thinking!” He threw him a 1000-Watt smile. Yuuri was momentarily blinded. “Not many people have managed to convince my Yura into doing something he doesn’t like. Aiming at his competitiveness… brilliant.”

Yuuri let himself smile and looked down at the child. “I’ve trained children of his kind before, although I’ve never seen anyone so steady on their skates, considering it’s his first time. He’ll have the basics down in no time, and then I’ll teach him to do some easy tricks.”

Yuri looked surprised at that, and a smile blossomed in his face slowly, a smile he couldn’t help but answer with one of his own.

Viktor hummed. “I see. Do you teach higher level groups too?”

“It depends. Yuuko and I share the lower ones, then I take the most advanced ones. I could squish Yuri into my lessons, if he wants me to be his instructor then.” Yuuri pushed his glasses in place, slightly uncomfortable. “I-I could teach him competitive figure skating too, if we came to that. But it’s okay if you want to do it yourself! I don’t mind. Not many people do figure skating around here, anyway.”

“You… you will teach me competitive figure skating?” the child said in awe, eyes shining brightly. Yuuri couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“Only if you want me to. But it’s still too early to think about that, isn’t it? You still have a bet to win.”

“Yes! I will be the most perfect penguin of them all! And I won’t fall and you’ll need to teach me harder things. Just you see! Come, Makkachin!”

Yuri rushed outside, his strides filled with determination, and the dog followed him. Viktor then threw him a look torn between amusement and confusion.

“A perfect penguin?”

“I-it’s just one basic exercise to teach them to separate their blades from ice when they skate. Their tiptoes have to look outside and they need to walk like this. It also helps them to improve their balance.”

A soft look of remembrance came into Viktor’s eyes at that. “Mmm, I remember I had problems with balance when I was little. I couldn’t skate a straight line to save my life, so if I wanted to go from point A to B, I did it spinning instead.”

“S-spinning?”

“Yeah. I even learnt a few jumps before I could skate a straight line properly.” He cocked his head. “They called me a prodigy because of how quick I picked up things, and how steady were my twirls, but the truth was far from it, I just couldn’t skate like everyone else. It drove Yakov nuts too, more so when he discovered I ended doing it purposefully to mess with him.”

Yuuri laughed at that, surprised at his little story. He was amazed to see that – even if it was in the most ridiculously talented way – Viktor’d had problems when he’d started skating too. He wasn’t that unreachable, perfect picture the media was so focused on giving, but a human. An incredibly talented human, yes, but with faults all the way.

That actually made him relax slightly around him. Maybe he could even get used to him, in the long ride?

“… but I’m sure if I had you as my instructor, I’d be skating from day one, _Yuuri,_ ” he said with sultry voice.

Nope. He took it back. There was no way in Earth he was getting used to him.

“A-ah-” he stuttered, unable to come up with a coherent answer, because what else he could do? Mischief was clearly visible in Viktor’s eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing! The-

“Viktor!” Yuri barked from the door, and Makkachin barked with him. He had his tiny arms crossed, and his foot was tapping the floor impatiently. “Let’s go home already! I’m hungry!”

“Coming, _kotyonok_!” He turned to face Yuuri again, looking apologetic and… disappointed? He ignored the ‘don’t call me that!’ screech from the child. “I guess our meeting has been cut short. We’ll have to hang out some other day, then.”

“Hang out?”

“Yeah. You’re Yuri ice-skating instructor, after all; someone who will be very important in his life from now on. Because of that, I need to know everything about you.” he raised his hand and softly cupped his cheek. His eyes were two deep blue orbs, and Yuuri could feel himself drowning in them. “Like when you started skating, what you like to do on you free time, of your past relationships and how they shaped you in what you are now… those kind of things.”

Yuuri wasn’t sure whether to melt or explode. He stood there, gapping like a fish while trying to reboot his fried brain. His cheeks were burning against his palm, and his glasses were slightly askew.

“VIKTOR!” Yuri screeched from the door, and both of them snapped out of it. Viktor’s hand fell from his face, and he felt torn between relief and longing.

“Well,” he started joyously, as if nothing at all had happened, “I guess we have to go. See you soon, Yuuri, miss.”

He waved childishly at them with a carefree smile while he joined Yuri and Makkachin. Yuri took the offered hand grumpily, and the three of them left. Yuuri gazed dazedly at their direction until they were out of sight, and then some more, but a screech snapped him out of his daze. He turned around, eyes wild, only to see Yuuko at the counter, fingers white by the death grip she had on the table. She was panting slightly.

“That… that was- THAT WAS VIKT-”

“Yuuko!” He stopped her in mid-sentence. “You can’t say anything about what you’ve seen here. You know as well as I do that V- _you-know-who_ has stayed out of the public eye for unknown reasons, and no one was sure where he was until now. It’s not our place to say anything.”

“I-I know, but this was-!” She stopped herself and lowered her voice that time. “That was _Viktor Nikiforov_ , and his son. In Hasetsu. In _my ice rink!_ I can’t believe it.”

“I can’t either, believe me.” He grumbled.

“Did you see him!? He looked as handsome as in TV! No! More handsome! And he was flirting with you shamelessly!” She pointed at him with her hands, almost bouncing in place.

“What? No, he wasn’t.”

“He so was! He was so smooth with the ‘I need to know everything about you’ part! I would’ve turned into putty if that had been directed at me, but I guess I’m not his type.” She then looked at him again, and squealed. “ _Oh my god!_ ”

Yuuri buried his face in his hands, mortified. He could feel his whole face burning, and he could bet that even the tips of his ears were red. God damn it!

“D-do you need help with the next group?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

She narrowed her eyes slightly, surely having caught up with his tactics, but let it go. She knew him to well. “Nah, don’t worry. We have only one group left today, I can manage. Go home and rest a bit, okay? Or do you need to work at the onsen again?”

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah. I better get going, then.”

He grabbed his bag from the locker and waved Yuuko goodbye. He made his way home, conflicting emotions waging inside him. Despite the honestly quite stressing evening, he couldn’t help but feel warm inside, and not from embarrassment. What was it, that feeling that seemed to blossom from his chest to fill him all over? Was he… was he happy?

He was! Of course he was happy! Viktor Nikiforov, the person he’d admired the most since he was a child, was in Hasetsu. By a play of fate, both of them had met, and they were going to see more of each other in the future. He was teaching his (adorable, albeit a little problematic) son too, something he loved to do at the first place.

His life seemed to head up after so many years of struggling and being stuck in the same grey place. Everything around him seemed a bit brighter, and he couldn’t help but be expectant of what was coming his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I may have portrayed myself a bit too much in Yuuko’s character. Welp.  
>  Aaaaah, that was so fun to write! Next chapter it’ll be in Viktor’s PoV again, I’ll try to have it soon!


	3. Playful Pizzicato

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! I’ve got no excuse but to say that I have too many projects going on in one of the busiest periods of my life. And, now that I had so many fics in hiatus I said to myself: why don’t you do a massive update? Your followers deserve it! 
> 
> I must be a masochist or something. 
> 
> At least, I hope this chapter makes up for the long delay!

Viktor walked down the road alongside Yuri and his dog Makkachin, silently marvelling at the sight of the snowflakes falling softly from the sky. The kid hadn’t said anything from when he’d picked him up at the Ice Castle, when he’d waved shyly goodbye at Yuuri, who had waved back with his sweet smile of his.

He’d known Katsuki Yuuri for a month now, and even though he’d managed to discover a lot of things about him, he still stayed a mystery for him. He’d learnt that his eyes would crinkle when he was feeling joyous about something, and that his love for kids was _immense._ He was really talented in skating too, judging by all the times he’d managed to catch him skating by himself before, but he was terribly embarrassed of showing it to anyone.

He’d learnt early on that Yuuri was a very reserved person, and even though he was warming up at the thought of seeing him every day, he still had problems expressing what he really felt. No matter what, he loved bringing out expressions from the Japanese, whether it was his embarrassed side, his caring side or the confident fairy he was on ice when no one was looking.

Viktor sighed, and he watched his breath mingle with the cold evening air. He was irremediable – despite having discovered all of this from Katsuki Yuuri, he still needed to know so much more about him. He wanted to know what drove him, why he’d never seen him competing on the most famous ice rinks, where he clearly belonged.

He felt the little hand on his tightening momentarily, snapping him out of his deep thoughts. He looked down at Yuri, and noticed how his face was slightly constraint by tiredness. Every blink he made was heavy, and Viktor wondered whether he would fall asleep while walking.

“Yura, are you tired?” he asked. The boy shrugged in reply, what in his language meant yes. “What did you do at the practice today?”

“The L.”

“The L?”

He stopped and rearranged his feet to show him. “You have to put your legs like this, one toe facing forward and the other to the side. You have to rest in the leg on the front and push the ice with the other one.” _Oh,_ Viktor smiled, _he’s teaching them to glide._ “We had to go from one side to the other of the rink, and the fastest one wins a candy. I almost won, but Minami cheated.”

“How so?” Viktor humoured him. Yuri harrumphed and crossed his arms.

“He’s been skating more time than me, and he’s done this exercise before. It’s not fair.”

He chuckled at the boy’s antics. He was so competitive sometimes. “You’ll get him next time, Yura.”

“Of course I will.”

They walked in silence again, their hands warm despite the cold around them. Then, a thought crossed Viktor’s mind.

“Yuri, I read there was something very popular here in Japan named Onsen. It seems they are establishments with hot springs – I think they call them Ofuro? – and also have rooms for guests. Do you want to visit one of these today? I’ve heard they’re a godsend after a day of hard work, and you’ve worked really hard, haven’t you?”

“Of course I have!”

“Then, do you want to go?” he prompted.

“I don’t care.”

Viktor took that as a yes. He picked up his phone and loaded a map, making their way to a place called Yu-topia. He had heard about the place when he had been taking a stroll in the morning, when one woman was gushing about it to one of her friends. He hadn’t understood half of what she was saying, but the name Yu-topia had been repeated a couple of times, and he got curious.

He had looked it up once he got home, and was actually surprised to see how lovely the building was. The classic Japanese look and stunning hot springs had won his heart at first sight, and he was impatient to check out if the place was as beautiful as the pictures made it look. That was why he hadn’t been able to supress himself from suggesting it to Yuri as he got out of his skating class.

The walk to Yu-topia was made in silence. Makkachin often nudged his leg to pick up the pace, and ran ahead once or twice when he got impatient, just to return to their side afterwards. Viktor explained Yuri his day, the boy just nodding along or answering with short words to his incessant questioning.

When they reached the Hot spring Resort, Viktor was glad to see the pictures hadn’t been misleading. The traditional entrance was illuminated by three lamps, and it was surrounded by foliate bushes. Big black Japanese letters were painted in cloth banners, with the typical sign for hot springs painted in red, and he could see vapour coming from the exterior onsen beside the building.

They walked towards the entrance, their steps being the only sound in the silent evening. Just at the door, Viktor was about to open the door, but he was distracted by Makkachin’s yap. Now that he thought about it, were dogs allowed to go in? He didn’t want to leave him out in the snow, while they were having a nice bath. He wasn’t that cruel.

He felt Yuri starting to become impatient, by the way he started to frown up at him, but Viktor was in a loss what to do. Maybe he could go in and ask about it. If they let him take the dog inside, that’d be ideal, but if they didn’t, maybe they should come another day, this time without Makkachin. Ah, but knowing that his dear dog had to spend a long time by itself again pained his heart to no avail.

He was pondering on what to do when the door suddenly opened. He raised his head, slightly startled, just for his eyes to meet with an older woman. She was short, and she had a round face with eyes that exuded motherly warmth. She was wearing a working kimono, with an apron with the name of the establishment embroiled.

Her mouth curves up in a sweet smile and she adjusted her glasses. “My, hello!” she exclaimed in a heavy accented English, “Please, come in!”

“Yes, of course. Just… what about my dog?” Viktor asked, nodding to Makkachin sitting beside him.

If it was possible, the woman’s eyes brightened up even more. She crouched down and offered her hand to the dog, who proceeded to sniff it in curiosity, then licking it twice. She glowed in happiness, and began patting Makkachin’s ears, crouching down so she could reach them better. Its tail began whipping strongly.

“Look at you! He looks like my Vicchan! Of course he can come in!” She stood up and waved at them. “Follow me. By the way, my name is Katsuki Hiroko, nice to meet you.”

“Viktor Nikiforov, my son Yuri, and this boy over here is Makkachin. The pleasure’s mine.”

When he said his name, Hiroko’s eyes glinted in recognition, but she chose not to say anything about the matter. Maybe she’d heard about him, somehow? Either way, she stepped aside and made room for them to go in.

They walked in, Makkachin trotting behind happily. Viktor oh-ed and ah-ed at every detail that managed to catch his attention, from the tatamis, to the paper doors, and the soft lights scattered in the way, giving him the impression that he had just walked in a ninja film. Looking down, he saw Yura’s face coloured in pure wonder, looking around with his mouth slightly ajar.

Hiroko stopped in front of a door, and waited patiently for them to reach her. “This is the men’s room. You have to go inside the onsen with a towel; you’ll find them inside the lockers. I will take care of Makkachin, no worries.”

“Thank you!” he exclaimed, with a brilliant smile.

Just as they stepped in, Yuri let go of his hand, and headed to one of the benches, hastily taking off his clothes. Viktor crossed his arms, watching in amusement as the boy struggled with his shirt.

“Need any help _, kotyonok_?”

“No.” He finally took his head out of his T-shirt. His hair stood up in a wild mane. “I’m already old, I can take care of myself.”

Viktor placed a hand on his chest dramatically. “Ah, my Yura doesn’t need me anymore. I guess I won’t need to dress him in the mornings anymore. And who will make him his _pirozki_ now, if not me? It seems it was yesterday when he finished his potty training, and now he’s already become such a grown man…”

“SHUT UP, STUPID!” he shouted, his cheeks flaming. He crossed his arms, but the state of his hair took away the little intimidating aura the 6-year-old had. “I could go to the bathroom by myself when you got me.”

“But you still ask me to dress you in the mornings. And you look _sooo_ adorable, calling for me with your bed hair and tiger onesie. You even called me ‘dad’ once.” He took out his phone, and began scrolling down. “Wait a second, I have it recorded.”

Yuri shouted a series of ‘shut up!’ while he stumbled out of his pants and grabbed one of the towels carefully folded in the cupboards. He rushed to the door leading to the onsen, and struggled to open it. Viktor chuckled as he unbuttoned his shirt, observing amused as Yuri stood on his toes to reach fully the handle.

Yuri managed to open the door and rushed outside, and Viktor followed shortly, a towel draped around his waist. The little boy rushed to the edge of the pool and touched the water carefully, testing its heat, and he was about to dive in when he stopped him.

“Yura, don’t. You need to clean yourself first.”

He looked up annoyed, and rushed in again. He threw a washbowl full of water on him, then ran to the onsen, diving in as if it was a pool, choosing to ignore Viktor’s warnings. He resurfaced again, his hair now plastered to his face, and looking very much like a wet cat.

“Are you coming in?”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

Viktor made his way towards the bath. He dropped the towel at the edge and went in, sighing in content once the hot water enveloped his limbs. He felt his muscles relax, and the knots of his back easing. Ah, it was as good as they’ve said.

It actually reminded him a bit of the saunas he used to go in St Petersburg after a long training day. Although, now that he thought about it, having a soak in natural, mineral hot springs had way more charm than staying one hour in a hot room full of sweaty, naked men.

Viktor rested his head on the edge of the pool, and he looked up, pensive. It was nice to have some time to rest, after the whirlwind his life had been for seven months already.

He could remembered as if it were yesterday the night when everything changed. He woke up at the doorbell at three AM in the morning, and after considering whether to go fetch the door or leave whoever that was outside waiting, he made his way to the door, grumbling sleepy along the way.

He hadn’t expected to see Nikolai Plisetsky at the other side.

He had known him for a long time, as he had been a good friend of his grandmother’s when he was a child. He had been one of the only adults to encourage him on pursuing a professional career as a figure skater, but after his grandma passed away when he was ten, they inevitably lost contact. So he was actually surprised to see him now, seventeen years later, and looking so old and worn off.

He stepped aside without saying a word, and Nikolai nodded gratefully, coming in. He saw him stagger in his walk, but he knew better than to offer him any help - Nikolai had always been a prideful man, and he would loathe to be seen as weak. So he made his way to the sofa, offering him to seat down.

“Tea?”

“I’d prefer something stronger, boy,” he said with a raspy voice.

Viktor made his way to the minibar, and picked one bottle of Vodka and two glasses. He placed them on the table, and served both of them. Nikolai picked his and drained it in one gulp. He in return poured some more Vodka in his guest’s glass.

“My boy… I’m sorry for coming so late, but I need your help.”

“What is it?”

He sighed. “My Greta died three months ago. She always had a delicate health, but after giving birth, her health deteriorated greatly. She also had to take care of the child on her own, rejecting every one of my attempts of helping her. God knows she’s as stubborn as her father.” He chuckled at that.

He picked up the glass, and watched the tears left by the alcohol on the walls. He wore a bittersweet smile on his face.

“She left a world that succeeded in drowning her, and she left me her little boy, Yura. And, oh, Vitya, isn’t he as stubborn as his mother. Way wilder than you were at his age, but maybe it’s because you had your ice skating. You could pour all your frustration on the ice.” He stopped, and smiled at him. “And look where that has taken you, at the top of the world.”

“I wouldn’t be what I am if it wasn’t for you and my grandma, Nikolai. You’re the ones that made me pursue my dream.”

He sighed. “I’m glad to hear that. That makes this easier.”

“Makes easier what, Nikolai? What’s going on?”

“I’m dying, my child.” He placed the glass on the table and looked fully at him. Viktor felt like a little kid again, but at the same time, very old. “Cancer, they say, and really advanced. They estimate I only have one month left, two tops. Maybe longer if I got a treatment, but I don’t have the money for that.” He stopped Viktor before he could talk. “And no, boy, I haven’t come here to beg for money. I don’t want to spend all my remaining money in a treatment that will only prolong my suffering.”

Viktor was at a loss. It had taken him off guard, and to know that Nikolai was dying had hurt way more than he’d expected. He wanted to do something for him, he owed him that much, but he was at a loss of what exactly.

“Vitya… I’ve come here for a very different reason. My death is inevitable, no matter how much we delay it, but that’s not what I’m worried about. I want you to take care of my grandson. He has no one but me, and when the Social services know of my health state, they’ll take him away.”

Wait, what? Viktor, taking care of a kid? He could barely take care of himself and his dog, now he had to take care of a child too? An instant negative almost slipped through his lips, but he refrained himself.

“Nikolai… I’m not the most suited man to take care of a child. I don’t know a single thing about it.”

“I know. I know I’m asking a lot, but everyone else has refused. I don’t want my little Yura to grow up in an orphanage, knowing that no one else wanted him. I’m terrified to even think of how that would affect him.”

Viktor stayed silent for a while, watching the dim light dance in his drink. Even with Nikolai’s reasoning, he still felt reluctant. He didn’t have the most domestic of jobs; being a professional figure skater meant he had to travel a great deal, and that wasn’t a good environment to raise a child.

Let’s not talk about his mental health at the moment. The world had started to lose the shine that inspired him, and ice skating didn’t thrill him anymore. His life felt like a carefully written script, and it had ceased to surprise him. He felt lost.

But that little boy, Yuri, was lost too. He didn’t have anyone, and his whole life was hanging from a really thin thread. So maybe, just maybe, he would help him to quell down that crippling loneliness that dulled him. 

With a sigh, he skulled his drink and placed the glass on the table softly.

“I… I will take care of him.” He rubbed his stiff neck. “I can’t promise I’ll be any good, but I can promise to try.”

Tears welled up in the older man’s eyes, and he bowed his head, hiding his face from him.

“Thank you, Vitya… I owe you. I owe you so much.”

“You owe me nothing. I wouldn’t be me if it wasn’t for you.”

After that, Nikolai left. Viktor spent the days looking at his phone, waiting for any update of the situation. When he received the notification that they had taken Yuri to the orphanage, he did his best to speed up the adoption process, even bribing some of the clerks. However, it wasn’t fast enough, and when he was allowed to see Yuri for the first time, two weeks had already passed.

Viktor was walking from side to side of the waiting room with wide strides, insecurity making him fidgety. The walls were painted in an ugly green that reminded him of vomit, and it had two tiny windows which were tight shut. Altogether, it gave the place a claustrophobic vibe that didn’t help him to quell down his nerves, more like the total opposite.

What if he messed up? What if he couldn’t arrange his career with taking care of the kid, and he ended up making him miserable? What if Yuri didn’t like him? What if-

The door opened, and Viktor stopped in his tracks. A bored-looking woman in her mid-fifties pushed a boy inside, and closed the door behind him, leaving the two alone in the room.

The first thought that crossed Viktor’s mind when his eyes landed on the boy was that he was tiny. His long blond hair framed his pale little face, and his deep green eyes were completely focused on him. He was hugging a worn out cat plushie, its grey fur matching perfectly the ugly uniform he was wearing.

He felt his heartstrings being pulled at the sight of him. He crouched down so he was in his level, and breathed deeply, trying to appear calm in front of the boy. He smiled at him, and he hoped it didn’t look as wonky as he felt it.

“Hi, Yuri. I’m Viktor Nikiforov. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Grampa talked about you,” he said with a monotonous voice, “he said you were friends.”

“We are. He took care of me when I was little, just like you.”

“They didn’t let me say goodbye to him.” His hold on the cat tightened. “These ugly guys came home and took me with them. I have my kitty because I was playing with it when they came, but all my other toys are in grandpa’s home. They don’t let me go see grandpa, and they don’t let me leave.”

Viktor felt his throat clench at his story, and he caressed Yuri’s hair, trying to ease his distress.

“Well, maybe it’s time to fix that, isn’t it?” he said with hoarse voice.

“Are you taking me with you?”

“Only if you want me to.”

Yuri stayed silent for a while, observing his face in distrust. What had made him so wary of others, Viktor didn’t know, but he hoped he could change that. He felt a pull towards the little boy, and all his insecurities had completely vanished. He would take care of the little kid, he swore.

Yuri should have liked what he saw in him, because his eyes welled up in tears and he lowered his head, burying his face in the cat’s fur.

“…Take me with you, please.”

Viktor couldn’t resist it anymore, and he hugged the boy, pulling him closer until he was sitting on his lap. His shoulders shook slightly for the silent sobs, and Viktor caressed his hair non-stop, blinking away some tears himself.

“Let’s go home, Yura,” he muttered against his hair, although he wasn’t really sure where home was.

He remembered how he clung to him all the way to his apartment in St Petersburg, not letting him go until he saw Makkachin, and then he threw himself to the dog. The first night they all slept together in the same bed, Yuri tucked up between Makkachin and him, and the next day, they went to visit his grandfather to the hospital.

That’s when the press took the first picture of them together. In the matter of a week, they became real pests, always following them when they went out, and asking nosey questions he didn’t feel like answering. He didn’t mind being in the eye of the media, but Yuri was clearly uncomfortable by it.

So, after Nikolai’s funeral, he made the decision to move out of Russia, at least for a while. There was nothing that tied Yuri there, and he felt like having a break from a skating that didn’t excite him anymore.

And god, hadn’t that been a great decision? He had never seen Yuri look so carefree as he was now, swimming in the onsen as if this was a pool. He had found a place in here where he felt comfortable in, and Viktor was rediscovering his love for ice skating once again, thanks to Yura and Yuuri.

He wasn’t sure yet, but Hasetsu was starting to feel like home.

“Viktor,” Yuri called, snapping him out of his thoughts, “I want to get out already.”

“Yes, we better get out before we start feeling dizzy. Then we’ll have dinner and go home, okay Yura?”

The boy nodded and got out of the bath. Viktor followed him shortly, tying the towel to his waist. He dried himself off and put on one of the green kimonos of the onsen, feeling relaxed and cheerful. He rubbed Yuri’s hair with a towel while he got dressed, and both of them made their way out of the baths, Yuri’s hand clasped on Viktor’s.

They were looking for the dining room when it happened. They were walking on a corridor, when a brown blur tackled one of the workers of the onsen, who was carrying a tower of towels so big that he hadn’t seen it coming. Towels flew everywhere, turning the corridor in a sea of fluffy white, and the worked laid on the floor, an over-ecstatic Makkachin on top of him, licking his cheek eagerly.

Viktor blinked in surprise. Was that… was that Yuuri?

“… Makkachin?” Yuuri muttered in confusion, petting his fur. Then, he raised his eyes, and he met Viktor’s gaze. His eyes widened in surprise. “Viktor!”

“ _Yuuri!_ ” Viktor exclaimed in delight. He got Makkachin off him and helped him stand up. Yuuri still looked at him with wide eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“Having a bath with Yuri. What about you?”

“This is my family onsen. I work here.”

Realisation dawned on him. “Oh, Katsuki Hiroko. I should’ve realised sooner.”

“You’ve met my mother?” he said with a faint voice. Viktor paid no mind to that.

“Yes. She was such a sweetheart, showing us around. She even let Makkachin stay inside. By the way, Yuuri, did you have a poodle before?”

“Yes, Vicchan, but how-”

Before he could answer, though, there were some heavy steps coming from the stairs, and they heard the voice of a woman talking in Japanese coming their way.

“Yuuri, what the hell was all that ruckus… oh.” The woman stopped on her tracks, looking at the sight in front of her. More exactly of two men, a little boy and a dog surrounded of unfolded towels. Yuuri groaned beside him.

“… You’re Viktor Nikiforov,” she said, this time in English.

“Yes, I am. And you are?”

“Katsuki Mari, Yuuri’s sister, but that’s not important. What are you doing here?”

“ _Mari-_ ” Yuuri warned.

“We live in Hasetsu, actually. Yuuri’s giving skating classes to my Yura.”

Her gaze went from him to Yuuri, and her mouth curved up in a growing smile. “Oh, is he, now? How come you haven’t told me you knew Viktor Nikiforov, Yuuri? After all, you wouldn’t stop talking about him when you were little. You even have-”

“ _Mari, please,”_ Yuuri hissed, sending her a panicky glance. She put her hands up in surrender.

Viktor looked back at him in confusion, and Yuuri sent him a reassuring smile, though it looked a bit crooked and unsteady. Viktor let it go, although Yuuri’s answer hadn’t managed to quell down his curiosity. It didn’t matter; he could ask Mari about it later.

Then, Mari’s eyes trailed down to the little bundle hiding behind Viktor’s leg, eyeing her in distrust. She crouched down in front of him, and he shied away from her, his glare deepening even more.

“Huh, a little kid. Is he your son?”

“Yep,” he answered chirpily.

 “He’s really cute. What’s your name?”

“None of your business,” Yuri barked, clenching his fists on Viktor’s kimono.

“There, there. Yura, this is no way to answer someone, right?” he admonished. At Mari’s confused look, he clarified, “his name is Yuri. Yuri Plisetsky.”

Her eyes widened slightly in realisation. However, her surprise didn’t last very much, and she returned to her laid-back demeanour shortly after.

“Huh, another Yuri. This is bound to get confusing fast. Why don’t we call the little guy ‘Yurio’?”

“I have a name, old hag!”

Viktor frowned. “Yurio, I raised you better than that. Stop badmouthing people.”

Yuri’s glare deepened. “Not you too, Viktor.”

“Anyway, we should get going. Dinner await us. See you later, Yuuri, Mari.”

Viktor picked up the blonde child, who didn’t stop growling and trashing in his hold, and waved carefree at them. Mari stared amused at the retreating forms, then glanced back at Yuuri, who had been unusually quiet. His eyes were focused on the Russian skater, a bit glazed over, and his tanned cheeks were slightly pink.

She couldn’t supress a smirk.

“Like what you see, little brother?”

He snapped out of his daydreaming and blushed profusely. He spluttered and grabbed all the remaining towels, then rushed to the total opposite direction. Mari could only chuckle at her brother’s antics.

* * *

Viktor had never eaten such delicious food in his life. Every bite was an explosion of many flavours he’d never tasted before, and he could only moan appreciatively at it. Sometimes, even the word ‘Vkusno’ slipped past his lips, but he was too busy enjoying his meal to care.

Yuri wolfed down dish after dish, not caring one bit if he was disrespectful. Even Makkachin had a dish of his own, and was eating happily his food, his tail whipping behind him.

Viktor tapped his belly, sated. Ah, that had been good. He felt a weigh resting on his side, and he looked down to Yuri, who was looking to the table with gazed eyes. He held his chopsticks against his mouth, and he made no move to take them away. His eyes started to close then, and Viktor knew it was time to go home.

“Did you enjoy the meal?”

Viktor looked up, just to meet Hiroko’s smiling face. He smiled back at her.

“We did. Everything was delicious. Thank you so much for the meal.”

“I’m glad. But it looks like the little one doesn’t have any more strength for today.”

“Yes, it seems so. Every day he goes to his skating lessons, he falls soundly asleep. Not even Makkachin’s barks can wake him up.” The child snuggled on his side, and Viktor sighed in contentment. “As much as I’d love to say some more, I think it’s time to leave.”

Hiroko nodded. “I understand. But please, come back again soon!”

“Of course! Your food is to die for, and the bath was very relaxing. We’ll come back, that’s for sure.”

Viktor picked Yuuri up, and made his way to the changing room. He put on his street clothes, folding neatly the green kimono, then he changed a still sleeping Yuri. Picking him up again, he stepped out of the changing room, and made his way to the exit, looking for a certain dark-haired man along the way.

However, instead of Yuuri, he bumped into his older sister. Quelling down his disappointment, he smiled brightly at her.

“Mari!”

“Hey, Viktor. Leaving already?”

“Yes. Yuri’s dead to the world. By the way, do you know where Yuuri is? I wanted to say goodbye before I left.”

“I saw him leave half an hour ago, but he didn’t tell me where he was going. He had his training bag with him, though, so he either went to Ice Castle or to Minako’s ballet study.”

The corners of his mouth turned down slightly in disappointment, but nodded gratefully at her.

“Ah, that’s a shame.” He adjusted his hold on Yuri, who rested his head on his shoulder, fast asleep. “Does he do that often? Going out at night to practice, I mean.”

Mari shrugged her shoulders. “Sometimes, mostly when he’s feeling restless or anxious. It’s his way to burn his pent up energy. Minako loves having someone loving ballet as much as she does, so she doesn’t care about opening up so late for him. And well, he has the keys for the ice rink. He works there, after all.”

Viktor nodded. “Makes sense. Well then, I’ll take my leave.”

“I can tell him you said goodbye once he comes back. How does that sound?”

“Good enough. Good night, Mari.”

“Night, Viktor.”

Viktor left Yuu-topia with Yuri in his arms and Makkachin trotting beside him. The walk back home was silent, but Viktor didn’t mind. It allowed his mind to wander around, more exactly to a certain ice rink nearby. Would Yuuri be there, or would he be at the study? Would he be dancing on skates or barefoot? Would it be as beautiful as he remembered, or even more than that?

He wanted to see it again. He wanted to see it so badly.

However, instead of Ice Castle, he reached home. He opened the door, letting Makkachin in, and let Potya rub herself against his legs, purring. He made his way to Yuri’s room and placed him on his bed. He changed him into his pyjamas and tucked him in.

Immediately, Potya climbed up the bed and curled against Yuri’s neck, closing her eyes. Viktor reached for Yuri’s cat plushie and handed it to the sleeping boy, who grabbed it unconsciously and hugged it.

When he turned around, he saw Makkachin patiently waiting for him at the doorway, wiggling his tail patiently. Viktor smiled at the dog. He walked to where he was sitting down and crouched down, petting his fur. Makkachin closed his eyes, relishing the feel of Viktor’s hands caressing him.

His mind soon flew elsewhere, and his hands stopped stroking his head. The dog, eager for his ministrations, head-butted Viktor’s hands, giving them a lick. Viktor’s attention snapped back at him, and he proceeded with the petting, but this time focused in something else.

“Makkachin…” he started, and the dog’s eyes focused on him, “would you take care of Yura for a while? Until I get back.”

The dog, as if understanding his owner’s words, made his way to the bed and jumped up, lying down at the lower part. He sighed in contentment, and looked up at Viktor, almost seeking an approval from him. He laughed lightly.

“Good boy. I’ll come back soon.”

And Viktor left his home once again, heading to Ice Castle Hasetsu in hopes of seeing the other man skate again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol I wasn’t planning to put Viktor’s and Yuri’s background in here, and I hadn’t planned it to be so angsty, but there you have it. Um, sorry?   
> Also, Yuri got that cat plushie from his mother. He still has it, although one of its ears is a bit crooked due to Viktor trying to fix it, when he couldn’t sew to save his life.


End file.
